Where I remember that I do in fact have 2 blogs

Miss me?

Yeah well it's been a crappy summer as far as boys and sex goes. It's amazing how fast your sex drive takes a nosedive when crisis like poverty and homelessness step in.

That said, I think I'm on the upswing, sort of.

A few weeks ago I went on a date with a perfectly charming latin guy. Educated, speaks 3 or 4 languages, wasn't mortified when i insulted the Swiss (his grandparents are Swiss. Everything was going well until the GNK (good night kiss).

We were walking back to his car when he grabbed me by the back of my jeans (nearly giving me a wedgie), spun me around and laid one on me. He's a good kisser, but i'm a top. That he-man crap doesn't cut it with me.

So now to a problem of the opposite variety.

New Dude (who shall remain nick nameless for the time being) and I have been hanging out a lot lately. Like I see him nearly every day and then we do social stuff once or twice a week.

I think he likes me. He's said a few things, done a few things to make me think that he likes me. But dude has just not done anything overt enough for me to grab him and plant a big lip smackery kiss on him to find out. I've pulled out all my peacock moves (I'm wearing a low cut pink sweater and leaning seductively over my desk as I type this)to no avail.

I think I am just going to have to get all 15 year old girl on him and ask "Do you like me or do you like LIKE me?"

It makes me feel a little weird

looking at the sitemeter stats and seeing people (boys) that I no longer talk to still reading my blog(s).

I have plenty of regular lurkers. That doesn't make me feel weird.

I have lots of real life friends who read my blogs and don't comment, but will talk to me in real life about stuff later.

But for some reason, the boy part weirds me out. It's like they still get to have a piece of me, only now it's non-reciprocal. It makes me feel a little dirty actually.

Girl Talk

me: awake? asleep? battling zombies?
Soopermouse: mana wyrms
me: I'm forwarding you the bulgarian's email. I need a good girl bitchfest
Soopermouse: what happened
me: read the email- backwards to forwards
Soopermouse: "it's not you it's me"
me: I know
Soopermouse: "i don't want you to fall in lve with me"
me: and I have learned that it really is them. Not me
Soopermouse: "you're good to fuck but not to bring home to mummy"
me: exactly
Soopermouse: that is what happened
me: either that or he really is hiding a dull wife back in the old country
Soopermouse: basically he thinks you're trying to turn a fuck into a relationship
me: it's a good fuck, but I only get serious for citizenship
Soopermouse: :P
me: you know I lurvessssss you
Soopermouse: i do
its my gypsy magic
me: it is it really is
Soopermouse: i know :)
me: stupid boy
he's losing a perfectly good fuck by being a coward
good thing I have a much younger student waiting in the wings
Soopermouse: did you yell the L thing while orgasming?
me: nope
once I wrote about it- I know longer felt the need
just had to let the anxiety go
Soopermouse: it doesn't matter
me: I will miss his cock, but I don't do annoying boys
Soopermouse: darling, you can get a new dildo, and it wont be as dumb
me: true
Soopermouse: thickheaded Bulgarians and thin nosed Greeks :)
me: at least you can get some good use out of a thin nose- if they nuzzle it in the right places
Soopermouse: :)
me: You know I'm posting this on the sex blog
Soopermouse: big hairy deal

The Problem With Being A Grown Up

I believe that we choose to fall in love. Sure, once we make that choice, we may act like idiots who cannot control themselves. But there is always a moment where we decide if we are going to take the risk and fall.

The problem with being a grown up is that I am smart enough now to choose not to fall. It means that there are fewer whirlwind romances and cases of being swept off my feet. And sometimes a good hard fall is fun, at least till you land.

Now that I am a grown up, the "little" irritating things that would send me into a tailspin of self-doubt (but why won't he call, what did he mean by that comment, etc, etc) now just annoy. And tip the scales in favor of the not falling category. I don't see them as proof of some horrible internal flaw of mine, but rather as proof of horrible manners (at best) or a serious lack of respect (at worst). And quite honestly, I don't have time for bad manners or disrespect.

But maybe I am being to harsh.

A friend and I were chatting yesterday about my current irritant.

Friend: Maybe he's just scared.

Me: I don't have any patience for emotional cowards.

Friend: Most people are emotional cowards.

Me: I'm not, I think that explains why I'm single.

Friend: You're single cause you want to be.

ME: Only partly true. I like having a regular person, I just like them to go home when I'm done with them.

Whatever. I still don't have time or energy for bad manners or disrespect. There are just so many fish in the sea.

Because I promised

The cute Bulgarian is hung like a pony, a very large pony. I swear to god after every time I see him I am sore for days, but in a good way. It's hours and hours of porn star sex.

So darling boy- next time you need a jail break, you know where to hide out.

Kisses.

A Not Exactly Shameless Confession

On more than one occasion, in the middle of very hot, very awesome sex, I have belted out three little words that do not normally come easily out of my mouth.

You probably know the three little words I mean, starts with I, ends with You, and the middle is that damn L word that gets so many people in trouble.

Whether I actually mean those words is beside the point, a girl would like to control when she first says those things to someone.

So I've been spending some time with a certain someone who has phenomenal sexual prowess. Sex with him is the kind of transcendent experience that Foucault talks about in the History Of Sex. It makes my brain go whoosh and my knees weak and I feel like giddy jello for days afterwards.

So naturally I am a bit scared that those three little words are going to come out of my mouth mid orgasm. I've been worried enough that I am having dreams about accidentally saying those three little words.

So the other day, after an early morning round of mind blowing orgasms, I fell asleep on the mind blower's chest and had dreams that I was saying things I shouldn't have been saying. What's worse is that sometimes I talk in my sleep (damn- must my subconscious keep trying to assert dominance despite my wishes?)

So when I woke up, a bit panicked, I asked if I had been talking in my sleep by any chance.

"No, why are you trying to hide something?"

Uhm, not exactly. I'm just trying to keep my subconscious in line, thank you very much.

Prize fighting

Two years ago, out of nowhere, I ran into my high school boyfriend. He was still hot, and we spent the weekend together. But it was obvious that we were not meant to be in the here and now.

During the course of the weekend we rehashed some old stuff, particularly our very bad break up. HE wanted to know why I didn't fight for him and my response was "Oh baby, I'm the prize, not the prize fighter."

So now I'm feeling a wee bit of a culture clash with the Bulgarian. I don't call. I never call. I don't chase. I grew up here, where women are taught not to chase. Only crazy Fatal Attraction types chase. I also don't wait by the phone.

And in the Balkans it's the women that chase. So the Bulgarian doesn't call.

Fine, I can deal with a bit of being the chaser, but at a certain point (like now) I get tired of being the one to make the first move. And so I won't. As much as I may like a guy, I don't play stupid games.